A Few Good Men
by scifinerdgrl
Summary: Though plagued by Vietnam flashbacks, Skinner goes to the rescue of newborn baby William (post-Existence)


TITLE: A Few Good Men  
AUTHOR: Scifinerdgrl  
RATING: R for violence  
CATEGORY: X (X-File)  
SPOILERS: Avatar, Existence  
KEYWORDS: Character dies, Pre-XF story, Skinner  
SUMMARY: Skinner is visited by Vietnam flashbacks and the ghosts of old friends as he tries to rescue Scully and her baby.  
WARNING: MAJOR Character Death. (Not the SPG)  
SON OF WARNING: I started this story in August, 2001, and I suspended it on 9/11. After I started up again in November, it started turning unabashedly pro-military and patriotic even though I've always been kind of anti-military and NOT a flag-waver. I don't understand it either but this story has a mind of its own.   
FEEDBACK: scifinerdgrl@mail.ev1.net  
FLAMES: whocareswhatyouthink@biteme.com  
  
CHAPTER 1  
  
The young marine landed on his stomach, his face down in a muddy creek. At first he couldn't breathe, but with a herculean effort he turned his head and spit out the mud and twigs that had intruded into his mouth. He took in a tentative breath, then opened his eyes and looked up. Through the mist of the jungle he could hear the muffled footsteps and calls of his platoon, far behind him and getting further. The bastards, he thought. They're leaving me here!   
  
He laid still for a moment, getting his bearings, making his plans. He could feel his gun underneath him, and visualized how he would check his gun for damage, then run towards his platoon, his gun out ahead of him. Just like in boot camp, he thought. As he mentally rehearsed his next moves, he heard a low groan a few feet away.   
  
"Walt?" the groan evolved into his name. "Walt? Are you here?" Silence, then a more plaintive cry. "Walt? Anybody? I... I can't feel my legs."  
  
Walter S. Skinner, PFC, raised his head and looked around. "Hank? Is that you?" he said in a loud stage whisper.  
  
"Walt?" the relieved yet pained voice cried out. "Yeah, it's me. I'm over here." Walter's eyes raced from point to point, scanning for any sign of humanity. All he could see was the lush green foliage of the Vietnam jungle. "Keep talking" he whispered loudly. "But keep it down. I'm coming for you."  
  
As Hank tried to comply, Walter scrambled through the underbrush, his gun in one hand and his body as low to the ground as he could manage. Just like boot camp, he thought. He came to Hank, his best friend in the platoon, hiding in a tangle of thick vines. Only Hank's head was visible. After carefully checking around them, Walter stood up, and reached for Hank's arms. "I'll get you out of here, guy. Hold on." Hank pulled his arms out from the vines and gripped Walter's wrists. Walter responded by gripping Hank's wrists forcefully. He pulled with steady force as Hank's uniform alternately caught and then broke free from twigs and branches in the brush. With a sudden surge, he pulled Hank free and nearly fell backwards himself. As he regained his balance, he looked down at Hank to see a trail of blood where his legs should have been. A sinking feeling came over him, but an equally strong reserve of resolve welled up from a source he never knew he had.   
  
With compassion, he said "Let me carry you." Hank looked up plaintively. The tone in his friend's voice told him things were worse than he'd thought. Walt continued, "I'll get you out of here. In one swift movement he pulled Hank's torso up from the ground and threw it across his shoulders. He steadied his friend with one hand as he gripped his gun with the other. "They went this way," he said with as much determination as he could muster.   
  
He ran toward the sounds of his retreating platoon and soon caught up to them. Breathlessly, he ran to his lieutenant. "Hank's hurt. We gotta get a medic right away." The lieutenant, only a few years older than the two PFCs, looked up at the tall athletic man with mud in his hair and a heroic gleam in his eye, but he said nothing. Walter persisted. "We gotta get him some help... NOW!"   
  
The lieutenant took Walter's arm and ushered him toward a waiting jeep. "There's no hurry," he said sadly. Walter looked at him with disbelief. As the lieutenant turned him toward the jeep, Walter carefully laid his friend in the back. As he saw the life draining out of his friend, a vision he'd seen too many times in his young life, he grabbed the man by his shirt and started shaking him violently. "Don't you die on me, Hank. Not now!!! You're safe now!" he shouted. "You can go home!! Wake up!"   
  
  
Assistant Director Skinner groaned and rolled toward the sound of his answering machine. "Wake up. A.D. Skinner, wake up," a computer-generated voice said from the tiny speaker. He jumped up and ran to the phone. "Who is th " he started breathlessly. The synth voice of the palm pilot rang in his ears. "A.D. Skin-ner. The fu-ture is here. You made it pos-si-ble." The phone line went dead and Skinner slammed the phone down. He started pacing and running his hand over his scalp as if there were still hair there. Stop it, Walter, he thought to himself. Think. After a few seconds of calming himself, he pulled off his pajamas and grabbed the jeans and T-shirt he had thrown into the hamper only hours ago. He walked into his living room, banging his shin on the coffee table. He yelped in pain and grabbed his shin. His voice seemed too loud to him, then he realized why. Everything was too quiet. He couldn't hear even the usual background hum of air conditioners. He went to the window and saw that the whole neighborhood had lost power. "This can't be about me," he thought hopefully. "It's just a coincidence." Nevertheless, he felt his way to the hall table and picked up his gun. He went to the front door and put his ear against it. He couldn't hear a thing. He opened the door to his hall closet and felt for his trench coat, slipped on some shoes, then grabbed his flashlight from the trench coat pocket. He opened the door and stepped into the hallway, his left hand holding the flashlight, the right hand holding his gun. He shined the flashlight to the right, then to the left, then to the right again. He thought he heard a "click" and whipped around to the left again. A neighbor's door opened, and Skinner pointed his gun at the entrance.  
  
With a loud buzz the emergency generator came on and the exit signs lit up. In the dim red light Skinner saw a familiar form. He flashed his light on the form's face. "Hello, Mrs. Robinson" he said.   
  
An elderly woman clutched the opening of her robe and shuffled her slippered feet in place. "Mr. Skinner. What happened?"   
  
Skinner answered in a kindly voice. "Just a problem with the power. It looks like the whole neighborhood is affected. There's nothing to worry about." The old woman went back into her apartment and closed the door. Skinner exhaled and suddenly realized he had not been breathing. Despite what he'd said to his neighbor, he was plenty worried. Whoever had the palm pilot knew his home phone number, and probably also knew where he lived. He locked his apartment door and then headed for the emergency stairs.   
  
He passed no one on his way to the parking garage. His eyes were by now somewhat accustomed to the darkness and he could make out his car. Nobody seemed to be around, so he ran to his car, opened the door, and slid into the driver's seat. He checked the back seat and found it empty. He sighed and put the key in the ignition. His cell phone rang and he had a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He answered it. The synth voice said "A.D. Skin-ner can you see in the dark?"  
  
Skinner did not answer. "We know where you are. You can-not hide." Skinner ground his teeth but resisted the urge to answer. The synth voice continued, "You can-not pro-tect Scul-ly's ba-by. You can-not pro-tect Scul-ly. You can-not pro-tect hu-man-i-ty. Re-sis-tance is fu-tile. Ha. Ha. Ha." and the connection ended.   
  
...Scully's baby... Scully... the words rang in his ears. He turned the ignition and squealed out of the parking garage...  
  
He knew the route to D.C. like the back of his hand, but without any light but his own and a few others' headlights, everything looked different. He grabbed his cellphone and dialed the first few digits of Scully's number, then thought better of it and put his cellphone back in his pocket. He drove on for a few minutes until coming to a Quik-E-Mart. He parked at the gas pumps and then got out of the car. He shined his flashlight toward where he thought a pay phone might be, and found one. He walked to it, turned off his flashlight, and started dialing Scully's number. Her line began to ring, and as he waited for an answer he turned around and leaned against the phone stand, watching for any sign that he was being followed. He wasn't a religious man, but he found himself praying that she would answer.   
  
Finally, he heard her voice say "Hello." And at that instant, his car blew up.   
  
CHAPTER 2  
  
"HELLO?!?" Scully shouted into the phone. She turned to look at Mulder, and said "What does this sound like to you?" She gave the phone to Mulder and he listened for a few seconds. At first e heard a quiet crackling sound, but then he heard a huge explosion, followed by a much louder crackling sound. He also thought he heard what could have been screams.   
  
He handed the phone back to Scully. "I'm not sure."   
  
Scully looked at her caller I.D. as she listened to the crackling. "It's gotten worse" she said to Mulder. "Is it the line?"   
  
"I don't think so" answered Mulder. "I think I heard an explosion."   
  
Scully said "I think I heard one, too, but I wasn't sure."   
  
Mulder leaned over to look at the caller I.D. "The call came from Virginia, but I don't recognize he exchange."  
  
Scully scanned the apartment. "Mulder, where's my cellphone?"   
  
Mulder looked toward the table where she usually put it. "I dunno. I haven't seen it in awhile."  
  
Scully put her finger on the hang-up button then started making a call. "Hi, it's Agent Scully of the FBI. I need to find the location of a number" and she read out the number. She listened for a minute as she grabbed a pen. Mulder came up with some paper for her. She scribbled down the address as Mulder looked on. "Thank you." Scully said, and then hung up the phone. "Well?" she asked Mulder.   
  
With obvious concern, he answered "That's in Crystal City." He grabbed his car keys and the scrap of paper, then ran to the door. "You stay with the baby. I'll call you when I know anything." Scully watched him slam the door behind him, then locked the locks. She looked nervously around the apartment, then decided to check on the baby.  
  
CHAPTER 3  
  
The first explosion knocked Skinner into the parking lot next door. The second explosion knocked him even further. He was winded and lay face-down on the ground for a few seconds before he was able to catch his breath. He rolled over and saw massive flames towering high into the sky. In the distance he could hear sirens approaching, and he could hear faint voices shouting for help. He got to his feet and looked around him. Both lenses of his glasses were cracked, giving the effect of a kaleidoscope. The light from the flames put everything in high relief, so that even after removing his glasses, Skinner could make out some tall buildings and a small wooded area. He stumbled toward the wooded area and found a fallen log to sit on. He looked back at the scene and shook his head.   
  
He needed to make a plan. A good marine makes a plan and carries it out, he tried to tell himself. But he couldn't think of a first step; he could only focus on the final outcome: death to whoever did this, and destruction of the palm pilot. His cellphone rang, and he eagerly answered it. "Don't worry about coming after me. I'm coming after you," he said passionately.  
  
"Sir?" said Mulder. "It's Mulder."  
  
"Oh, hi, Mulder," said Skinner. "What phone are you calling from?"   
  
"My cellphone. I'm in my car, on my way to Crystal City. Was that you calling Scully?"   
  
"Yeah. I was trying to warn her..."   
  
"Warn her of what?" Mulder had the sinking feeling he'd done exactly the wrong thing. "Is she in danger?"   
  
"I'm not sure now." Skinner answered, exasperated yet puzzled at the same time. "I got a warning, but it may have been a trick."   
  
"Where are you?" As he asked this Mulder's road turned southward and he saw flames in the distance. "Nevermind, I think I can find you."   
  
"Follow the light, Mulder" Skinner said. He put the phone in his pocket and passed out.  
  
Mulder shouted into the cellphone. "Skinner!" but heard nothing. As soon as he'd put it back in his pocket it rang. He grabbed it and said breathlessly "Hang on. Where are you?"  
  
Scully answered, "Mulder, it's me."   
  
Mulder said "I was talking to Skinner a second ago but got cut off." A light from a helicopter swept across his windshield and he craned his neck to get a look at the source. He wasn't sure, but it looked military. "Scully, something big is going on here. There's a huge fire in Arlington."   
  
Scully put William down on the sofa and picked up the remote. On the TV she saw a reporter behind a desk with "LIVE SPECIAL REPORT" scrolling across the bottom of the screen. The reporter said, "Information is sketchy at this point, but it looks as if there's been an explosion in Crystal City. We're getting reports of broken windows from as far away as Alexandria. All air traffic has been rerouted from National to Dulles..."  
  
Scully could hear Mulder shouting into the phone "Scully, are you there?"  
  
She answered, "Yes, I'm here, Mulder."  
  
"Don't do that to me!" he yelled.  
  
"Sorry, I just turned on the TV. It's hit the news already, but they don't know much."  
  
Traffic slowed down and Mulder slammed his brakes. A man in military fatigues waved him to a stop. "Look Scully, I gotta go. Call Agent Doggett and get him to stay with you, wouldya?" and he hung up before she could answer.  
  
CHAPTER 4  
  
His sense of hearing came back first, but all the sounds he heard were mixing together in his head in an aural kaleidescope. He lay on his back and struggled to focus on individual sounds, eventually picking out the sounds of a crackling brush fire, choppers overhead, shouts, footsteps in the underbrush...   
  
"Medic!" one of the voices shouted. "There's another one over here -- I think he's alive!" A rush of footsteps followed, getting louder, stopping just a few inches away. He opened his eyes just long enough to take in red, black and green images swirling in a nauseating eddy, then shut them again groaned.  
  
He felt two fingers on his neck. "This one's salvageable," a voice near him said urgently. The same voice said "What's your name, soldier?" with heartrending compassion. Skinner tried to answer, but his jaw felt like it was on fire. He groaned and tried to get up but felt a firm hand push down on his chest. "Hold on" said the kindly voice. "We're gonna get you outta here." The pressure on his ribs made him cry out, and the kindly voice yelled "We've got broken ribs here. Maybe internal injuries. Where's that stretcher?" he demanded.  
  
Skinner felt a hand reaching into his shirt and the voice said "Were you wearing you dog tags? I can't find them." Skinner shook his head as best he could. A rush of footsteps came toward them, and Skinner felt his body being rolled onto a stretcher. A different voice said "We have to hurry. HQ's sending more napalm." The two voices said together, "One, two three..." and Skinner felt himself being lifted up. After a brief but very bumpy ride he heard the sound of chopper blades and felt their hot breeze brushing against his skin. The men lifted him into the chopper and he heard a new voice yell over the blades "Last one. You have to get out of here!" and the chopper rose out of the jungle. Skinner turned his head and opened his eyes. He could see the flames leaping up as if to race the chopper. And that was the last thing he remembered.  
  
CHAPTER 5  
  
Scully hunted for her cellphone again, then gave up and dialed Doggett's number on the apartment phone. Doggett's voice answered after one ring. "Yeah. What?" He said with sleepy curtness.   
  
Scully answered "Agent Doggett, this is Agent Scully. I think A.D. Skinner needs your help. Mulder's on his way to Crystal City." She paused and considered what she should say next. "Mulder wants you to watch out for me here, but I'm all right. Really. Whatever's going on in rystal City is more important."   
  
Doggett woke up immediately. "I'm on it" he said efficiently, and hung up the phone.   
  
She hung up and paced the floor until the pain from William's birth became unbearable. She sat on the sofa, put William in her lap, and channel-surfed for more news of the fire. She wondered why Mulder had told her to call Agent Doggett, and tried to suppress the feeling that she'd just made a mistake. One station showed an aerial view, with tall flames leaping up from a pitch black background. The only other lights in Arlington were at the Pentagon, making the Pentagon look like a big bulls-eye that had narrowly been missed.   
  
Scully was watching so intently that the knock on her door made her leap. "Who is it?" she yelled, half-hoping it would be Doggett. "It's me, sweetie." Scully went to the door, looked through the peep-hole, then unlocked the door and opened it. "Hi Mom." Maggie Scully came in and immediately started cooing over the baby. "May I?" she asked, arms outstretched. Scully grinned. "Sure." and handed the baby over to her mother. Her mother cradled the baby and rocked side to side. "Something told me to check on you. I saw the light, and I..."  
  
"It's okay, Mom. I haven't been sleeping much lately." It wasn't a complaint. She was glad to sacrifice a little sleep for the baby she'd wanted so desperately.  
  
"Where's Fox?" Maggie asked. Scully smiled at her mother's use of Mulder's first name. She still doesn't get it, she thought. "There" Scully said, and looked toward the images of flames on the television.  
  
Maggie Scully looked at her daughter with concern and compassion. "Why don't you stay with me until he comes back. If he's dealing with THAT" she nodded toward the TV "he'll be gone for a good while. And I can take care of William while you get some sleep." Scully hated to admit to herself that she liked the idea, but the fear she'd been suppressing overcame her pride and she immediately said "Let's go."  
  
Scully wrote a note for Mulder as her mother put together an overnight bag, then they headed down the stairs. Mrs. Scully's car was already equipped with a carseat, facing backwards in the rear seat. "Mom," Scully started. Maggie cut her off "I was a girl scout, remember? Always prepared." She expertly strapped William into the seat as Scully gingerly sat in the passenger seat. A glint from the cupholder caught her eye and she reached for the object. It was her cellphone. At about the same time, neighbors heard thuds and muffled screams coming from Mrs. Scully's house...   
  
CHAPTER 6  
  
John Doggett pulled on some clothes, grabbed his gun and his notebook, and headed out the door. As he drove toward Crystal City, he could see a glow on the horizon.   
  
He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialed a preprogrammed number. A sleepy agent Reyes answered.   
  
"Agent Doggett here. I hate to wake you. There was an explosion in Crystal City, and I gotta bad feeling about this -- not what you think, just a cop's instincts. A.D. Skinner lives in Crystal City." As he listened he could hear sirens and the glow on the horizon turned into a tall cylinder of fire. "I'm going down there" he said. "And I could use some help."  
  
"Just say where" Reyes answered, and they chose a meeting place and time.   
  
As Doggett crossed the bridge into Arlington, he saw the choppers, the flashing lights of sirens, and the eerie darkness all around. Smoke from the fire was starting to waft toward him, and the light from its own flames gave it a pinkish color. Soldiers waved him away from his route and he found himself being directed to Arlington National Cemetery. He rolled down his window and said "I'm with the FBI. I need to get to Crystal City."   
  
The soldier looked at his badge and said "No sir, we need you here. Follow me." The soldier walked into the cemetery, with Doggett following closely behind in his car. They passed dozens of rows of plain white grave markers, and the sounds of choppers and sirens grew quieter. Eventually the soldier signalled him to stop at a row of graves that looked just like any other.  
  
"Get out of the car" he ordered. Doggett followed him to a grave that read "PFC Joseph McKinney, March 12, 1951 - August 27, 1969" Doggett pulled his flashlight from his pocket and read the grave marker. He turned around, saying "What does this..." and realized the soldier was gone.  
  
CHAPTER 7  
  
He came to on a cot. His head hurt but he was able to take in sights and sounds again. He saw people lying on cots and others rushing back and forth tending to them. A woman with jet-black hair and green eyes, wearing an olive green jumpsuit, was holding his hand. She squeezed his hand when she saw his eyes open. "Hi, soldier. Feeling better?"   
  
He didn't answer for a few seconds, then said "Yes, I am." He tried to get up but the woman said "Not so fast. You need to save your strength."   
  
"For what?" he asked.   
  
"You're going back to your unit. We've done all we can for you here. And we need your bed for the next wave." She had a wistful look in her eyes.   
  
"What unit?" he asked. She laughed a gentle and sympathetic laugh. "You have a concussion. I'm not surprised you're confused. You managed to give us all the details a few minutes ago, but I guess you don't remember that, either?" He shook his head. She said, "I gave you some morphine, too. Maybe that has something to do with it." He groaned. "So I'm going to feel worse again in an hour?" She whispered "I'll give you another shot right before you go." The corners of his lips turned up and he closed his eyes. Yes, he thought. Morphine...   
  
He awoke on a stretcher, being carried toward a chopper. The woman with the green eyes came running up behind them and stopped the medics. She leaned over Skinner and said "Look me up after the war." She put a piece of paper in his hand and folded his fingers over it. He said "Wha---?" and she jabbed him in the arm with a needle. The medics began running again and put Skinner in the chopper. He could see his green-eyed nurse looking into the chopper and as the chopper lifted she wiped away a tear.   
  
They took a short trip, and Skinner looked at the piece of paper "Nurse Betty Stowe Fort Wayne, Indiana." The chopper pilot put him into a basket and soon he was being lowered to the ground. On the ground he was met by a single marine, who untied his harness and helped him to his feet. "Welcome back, Walt" he said.   
  
Skinner squinted to look in the man's face. "Hank?" he asked in surprise. "What are you doing h-- -" Skinner said. He stopped mid-sentence when he realized where he was -- Arlington Cemetery. Then he said, "Am I dead?"  
  
Hank laughed. "Old soldiers never die..." and Skinner finished, "They just fade away? That's just a metaphor. I SAW you die -- in Nam!"   
  
"You saw something, I'll grant you that." Hank started walking and Skinner struggled to keep up.  
  
Hank continued "Haven't you ever wondered why some soldiers become heroes? or why some become the great leaders of history?" Skinner said impatiently "What are you talking about?" Hank seemed not to hear the interruption. "Why one man rises to the top? or commits that one remarkable act of heroism? Why THAT man? What makes him different? All soldiers have what it takes -- patriotism, training, courage..."  
  
Skinner thought for a moment then offered an answer. "I guess it's partly being in the right place at the right time, or being the right person for the particular challenge." Hank interrupted, "Yes, but why was THIS man the one? How did he get to the right place, or become the right person?"  
  
Skinner stopped walking, and Hank had to turn around to face him. Skinner said, "Is this a riddle? Because I'm not in the mood for games."  
  
Hank chuckled and shook his head slightly. "It is a mystery, isn't it? Look around you, and you'll find the answer." Skinner turned 360 degrees, and all around him all he saw were rows and rows of white gravemarkers, dimly glowing in the starlight, their edges blurred by a light mist. He turned to look at Hank, exasperation and confusion on Skinner's face, compassion and serenity on Hank's. Hank said, "There ARE no great men, no heroes who single-handedly change the world. ehind every great soldier there are the thousands of great soldiers who came before him. No man is an island, and no soldier fights alone."  
  
Annoyance crept into Skinner's voice as he said "Why are you telling me this?" Hank put his hand on Skinner's shoulder and fixed his eyes on Skinner's.   
  
"Remember those times in Nam when you should have died, yet you survived?" Skinner looked at him skeptically and said "But..." Hank interrupted. "And remember those times when you found courage you never knew you had, strength you never had before, reserves inside of you that you never knew were there?" Walter nodded, remembering the last time he saw Hank. Hank continued, "Your country needs you, Walter. Now more than ever. You have a difficult fight ahead of you, but you will never be alone. Accept help when it is offered. Your fellow marines will never let you down." "But I'm not a marine anymore," Skinner objected.   
  
"Walt, you may have left the marines, but the marines have never left you." With that he turned and walked quickly into the mist. Skinner tried to follow him, but he seemed to have vanished. Out of the corner of his eye, Skinner saw a thin beam of light sweeping across the graveyard. The light approached, then shone on Skinner's face. Instinctively, he put up his hand to shield his eyes.   
  
"A.D. Skinner?" John Doggett said. "What the hell are you doing here?"   
  
Skinner put his hand down and nearly smiled. "Doggett! Am I glad to see you!" Doggett took a step backwards, as if afraid that Skinner might hug him. "I'm glad to see you too, sir. Were you looking for me?"   
  
"No, I assumed you were looking for me," Skinner replied. They looked at each other for a second, as the light from Doggett's flashlight fell on the nearest gravemarker. It read "PFC Hank Shelby. Novemeber 2, 1950 - August 27, 1969."   
  
CHAPTER 8  
  
Scully buckled her seatbelt and absent-mindedly ran her hand up and down the portion above her shoulder. Her mother started the car and pulled out into traffic. They drove in silence for a few minutes, then Scully's spine suddenly straightened. "Mom! Where are we?! This isn't the way to your house!!" she cried out.   
  
"It's okay, Dana. I know what I"m doing," Mrs. Scully said soothingly. Dana's repsonse was to stare at her, wide-eyed. Mrs. Scully looked at her casually. "You worry so much Dana."   
  
Dana Scully, new mother and loving daughter, disappeared, and Dana Scully, FBI agent, took her place. In one smooth movement she pulled her gun and put it to the driver's temple. She c*cked the gun and said coldly, "Stop the car..." She paused but the car did not slow down. "NOW" she commanded.   
  
The driver pulled in to a vacant parking lot and said "Dana, put the gun away." Dana's hand started shaking slightly. "Who are you?" she said in the same stern tone. "And where are you taking us?"   
  
The driver smiled a phony smile and said in a saccharine voice "I'm your mother, silly." Scully's mouth hung slightly open as she thought what her next move should be.   
  
Suddenly the baby started crying, and Dana looked at him. The driver took this opportunity to grab the gun. With her other hand she popped the latch on Scully's seatbelt. The passenger door opened and a hand reached in. The hand grabbed Scully's arm. She felt herself being jerked from the car and thrown onto the ground. She landed hard on her backside, and before she could get up, the man who had opened the door jumped in the car. Scully thought she could hear the baby crying as the car sped away...  
  
Mulder followed the flashlights of the soldiers posted along the road. There were no other cars, and Mulder was beginning to wonder where he was going. Even though he knew Arlington well, he had become disoriented.   
  
Finally, he rounded a corner and saw the glow of the Pentagon in the distance. Soldiers continued waving him forward. He pulled out his cellphone and dialed home. The machine picked up, and Mulder immediately became concerned. He left a message, saying "Scully, I'm in Arlington. I'm going to the Pentagon, and..." suddenly his cellphone cut out. He shook his head. Of course -- jammed this close to the Pentagon.   
  
An officer waved him to an entrance. He parked the car and got out. He looked aroune and saw no one else, and no flashlights. He couldn't help feeling flattered and a bit giddy. He was sure he would get some answers to what had happened in Crystal City, and maybe the answers to some of his old questions, too.   
  
The officer led him into the central courtyard and told him to sit at a table. CSM appeared and sat across from him. Mulder said sarcastically "How nice to see an old friend here." CSM took a drag on his Morely but said nothing. "I thought you were dead" Mulder said. CSM replied, "Who says I'm not?"  
  
CHAPTER 9  
  
PFC Walter Skinner couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw a series of images from his friend Hank's last day on Earth. Opening his eyes wasn't much better. Everything he saw reminded him of Hank. Pulling his blanket over his legs, he thought of the body bag now warming the legless corpse of a great friend and soldier. Even good memories were no comfort. The rifle next to his cot reminded him of their infamous shooting contests. He should have let Hank win one. Every time Hank challenged Skinner's renowned eagle eye, the company set up a contest, even though everybody knew Skinner was the best shot. Afterwards, Hank vowed to get Skinner "next time," and everyone whooped as if there was a chance he actually could. Now there would be no next time.   
  
Skinner got out of bed, grabbed his rifle, and left his tent. He walked around camp for a few minutes, until his eyes had become so accustomed to the dark that it seemed like daylight to him. He had taken this walk many times after the death of a comrade, but this time he needed it morethan ever. He stood "at ease," a pose that was by now actually comfortable, and looked up at the stars. Whenever times got difficult in Nam, he looked up at the stars and named as many as he could. "Orion's belt" was just over the Southwest horizon, shining more brightly than usual in the moonless night. His father had taught him many of those names, and it was a comfort to him to know that at least one thing in his life was the same. This night, he couldn't help remembering all the other lives he'd privately grieved under the stars, and the accumulated grief of all his losses started to weigh on him. After a few minutes he realized his cheeks were wet from a salty stream that had sneaked there without his permission. "Geez, Walter" he thought to himself. "You're a marine, for Pete's sake. Get a grip." He took a deep breath, wiped away the tears, and grasped his rifle a bit tighter. With a long sigh, he started back to his tent. From the corner of his eye he saw a tall lanky figure approaching.   
  
"Hank?" he whispered.   
  
The figure didn't answer, but put a finger to its lips and beckoned him to follow. Wanting desperately to believe it was Hank, Walter followed. The figure turned a corner and disappeared behind a tent. Walter walked silently toward the tent, and as he turned the corner he saw a much smaller figure. It was a child, about twelve years old, pulling the pin on a hand grenade. As the child's arm reached back for the wind-up, Skinner raised his gun to his shoulder and fired. Through the sight, he saw the blood and brains of the child splatter, glistening in the starlight. A second later, the grenade exploded, still in the child's hand.   
  
Skinner stood mute and motionless as men rushed around him. His c.o. walked up to him and asked, "Did you see what happened, private?" although he knew from Skinner's expression that he had.   
  
"Yessir," Skinner answered mechanically.   
  
The c.o. waited for a moment then said, "Well...?"   
  
"I shot a child," he answered.   
  
"Was it a boy or a girl?" the c.o. asked.   
  
"Does it matter?" Skinner replied. He turned and walked back to his tent, laid down and slept dreamlessly for twelve hours.   
  
"A.D. Skinner, sir..." John Doggett's voice penetrated his consciousness and he opened his eyes. He was in a hospital emergency room. From the other side of the privacy curtain, John Doggett said, "A.D. Skinner?"  
  
"Yeah," Skinner said gruffly.   
  
"Agent Doggett here, sir. Do you mind if I come in?"  
  
Skinner appreciated Doggett's courtesy. On the way to the hospital Doggett had respected Skinner's reluctance to talk about what had happened. He still wasn't ready to talk about it, but he knew Doggett would not pressure him. Doggett glanced at Skinner, and his cop's eye needed only a second to take in all the bruises, contusions, and freshly stitched cuts on Skinner's body. He quickly looked away, and found a chair. He sat down and said, "Sir, I tried calling Agent Scully like you asked, but she ain't home. I tried Mulder, too, but he ain't home either."   
  
Skinner said "Did you try their cellphones?" Doggett nodded. Skinner grew agitated. "Scully was home when I called her to warn her about what I believe to be a threat to her and her baby." Doggett's eyes widened at the mention of the baby he'd dedicated months of his life to protect.   
  
Skinner grabbed his shirt and said "I think I'm done here. Let's go." He dressed as quickly as he could, considering his condition, and the two men left the E.R.   
  
They pounded on Scully's door, and when there was no answer Skinner nodded to the super to unlock it. Inside they found her not to Mulder, but nothing seemed out of place. They called Maggie Scully's house, but a mechanical voice said the line was out of order. They immediately left for Maggie Scully's house, and called Agent Reyes en route.   
  
When they arrived they found the house dark, but the door unlocked. They went in, and with their flashlights were able to see signs of trouble -- overturned furniture, broken glass, papers all over the floor... At the back of the house they found a bound, gagged, and unconscious Maggie Scully in a heap on the floor.   
  
CHAPTER 10  
  
Scully groaned and rolled onto her side. She could feel the blood oozing from the stitches that had opened when she fell. She put her hands on the ground and started to push herself up. She got herself halfway there when she started feeling dizzy and her arms started to collapse. As she started falling she suddenly felt hands under her armpits lifting her up. She got to her feet and looked to see who had helped her.  
  
"Missy?! Daddy?!" Scully couldn't believe what she was seeing. She was horrified yet also strangely comforted. Her father said, "It's okay, Starbuck. We're here to help you."   
  
"But how?" Scully asked.   
  
Her father answered, "I've been watching out for you for years, and now Missy has too. Couldn't you feel our presence?"   
  
"Well, maybe... there were a few times... but that was just wishful thinking," Scully said.   
  
"So you got your wish" her father said cheerfully. "Who do you think guided Mulder the night William was born?"   
  
Missy added "And who showed the rescue planes where to find you and Mulder in Antarctica?"   
  
Scully nodded a grudging acceptance, and as she continued to lose blood she was having trouble thinking of a rational explanation for what was happening. They continued walking on the deserted street until they found their way to a pay phone. "You'll be fine now, hon" her father said. Melissa picked up the phone and dialed 911 as their father helped Scully to steady herself on the phone's stand. Their father said "C'mon, Missy. Let's see how my grandson in doing..." and they walked off into the night.   
  
Later, Scully lay in her recovery room, an I.V. in her arm and oxygen tubes in each nostril. As she struggled to consciousness, she could feel a hand over hers. She looked up, expecting to see Mulder, but instead saw his mother. She closed her eyes, hoping she was dreaming.   
  
"Dana," Teena Mulder said softly. "Don't go away." Scully squeezed her eyes closed, as if doing this would block out sounds as well. Mrs. Mulder continued, "We need to talk."   
  
Scully reluctantly opened her eyes. "Dana, I know you're worried about William..." Tears cme to Scully's eyes but she said nothing. "I worried about Samantha, too. But this is important -- more important than any individual, even a baby."   
  
"The aliens," Scully said with resignation.   
  
"We can't let them win," Mrs. Mulder said firmly. "We have to beat them, at any cost." Tears flowed freely down Scully's cheeks, and Teena Mulder wiped them away. "A few of us must make a great sacrifice, or else we will all be sacrificed. When you understand what's at stake you can't be selfish."   
  
"I know," Scully whispered. "William's life has a purpose, and he's fulfilling that purpose now." She paused and drew her chair closer. "No child lives only to give their parents' lives meaning. Each life has its own meaning and its own purpose."  
  
Scully bit her lip then said, "And your purpose? Why are you here?"   
  
Mrs. Mulder answered, "ALL of humanity has a stake in this. At one time I stopped caring about my own life. But life itself? I never stopped caring about that. You need help and I am here to help you. For everybody's sake."  
  
CHAPTER 11  
  
Mulder looked at CSM with suspicion. "So, you ARE dead?" CSM flicked an ash onto the ground and said, "Why would that be difficult for you to accept? You've witnessed so many paranormal events, why doubt this one?"   
  
Mulder seemed flustered. "Well, I... " He paused and mustered his defiance. "I have no reason to trust you, for one."   
  
"On the contrary. You have every reason to trust me. What have I got to gain from lying to you?"   
  
"What have you ever had to gain with your lies?" Mulder answered. "You protected inhumane experiments on unwilling subjects. You would sacrifice anyone or anything to further your goals."   
  
"As would you," CSM said smugly. He put out his cigarette and lit another.   
  
Mulder said, "And another thing, ghosts don't smoke."   
  
CSM exhaled, sending a stream of smoke into Mulder's face. "No? Then perhaps I'm not a ghost."   
  
"So what are you? A shadow? a spook? a ghoul? a spectre? a phantom? an incorporal entity? a wandering spirit? a dybbuk?..."   
  
"So many questions. tsk tsk "CSM flicked his ash, then held his cigarette vertically in front of him, studying it carefully. "What happens when the light goes out of a life? Does it become an ash or an ember? Does it disappear completely?" He took another drag, and spoke through the smoke he exhaled, "Or does it get sucked up into a larger lifeform?"   
  
Mulder looked at him, wide-eyed. "But I can see you -- why?"   
  
"Why?" CSM took another drag and let the smoke come out slowly as he spoke. "Because I want you too..." He smiled, "As it has always been with us."   
  
CSM said, "You and I share a special bond, Fox. I watched you grow up; I've watched your career, and I've guided you to the answeres you sought."   
  
Mulder said contemptuously, "What answers? All you ever guided me to were lies." CSM put out his cigarette, absently twisting it in the ashtray long after it was out. His eyes bored into Mulder's. "And how do you know they are lies?"   
  
Mulder clenched his teeth and stared back in defiance. CSM continued, "If they have been lies, it is because you asked the wrong questions."   
  
"What questions would you have preferred?" Mulder asked.   
  
CSM put the palms of his hands on the table, then turned his hands over. "Like opening a book, a question defines its own answer. Only when it is too late do you realize you were reading the wrong book."   
  
"Okay, so what is the *right* book?" Mulder asked sarcastically.   
  
CSM stood up. "Come, let me take you to the library," and his arm swept around in a grand arc, leading Mulder's eyes to all five walls of the Pentagon courtyard. All the windows were lit, and in each one a silhouetted figure was visible in the center. Mulder stood up and the two entered the Pentagon.   
  
CHAPTER 12  
  
Skinner and Doggett untied Maggie Scully and rolled her onto her back. As Skinner took her pulse, Doggett called for help on his cellphone. Skinner knelt next to Maggie Scully and looked up at Doggett. "Check the rest of the house," he ordered. As Doggett left the room, he used his left hand to open Mrs. Scully's eyes, and his right to shine his flashlight into them. Her pupils were equal and reactive, a good sign, and about as much as he knew about first aid in this situation. Trying to fight off his feelings of helplessness, he shone the flashlight around the kitchen, until he found a towel. He ran cold water over it, then placed it on Maggie's forehead, remembering the time years ago someone special had done that for him.   
  
Maggie's eyes fluttered, then opened. She could see Skinner only as a silhouette, and said "Daddy?"   
  
"Hardly!" he snorted, then caught himself and lowered his voice. "It's A.D. Skinner, Mrs. Scully. How are you feeling?" he asked tenderly. "Do you know where you are?"   
  
"Mmmmmmm... I'm not sure. I was having the strangest dream -- my parents were here. They were telling me to hang on... that I had something important to do."   
  
Goosebumps went up Skinner's spine. "I understand," he said, trying to produce a smile and failing miserably.  
  
Maggie sighed and reached for his hand, finding comfort in his touch and in his voice. "Thank you," she said simply, looking into his eyes.  
  
He squeezed her hand gently and answered, "You're welcome."   
  
They shared an awkward moment of silence until Agent Doggett came back and announced, "The rest of the house checks out. No additional victims. No perps. No nothin. Phone line's been cut, power was cut off." He reached out and flipped a light switch. Bright flourescent lights flickered on, making Skinner and Maggie Scully groan, shielding their eyes. Doggett continued "But I switched it back on."   
  
When their eyes had adjusted to the light they saw that the floor was smeared with a greenish fluid.   
  
CHAPTER 13  
  
PFC Walter Skinner changed overnight from an able, sometimes enthusiastic soldier, to a zombie-like drug user. His buddies understood. They missed Hank, too.   
  
This night he patroled the area on foot, sometimes shuffling, sometimes stumbling. But despite his declining mental state, he clung to his routine duties. They gave him a sense of order in a senseless world. He listened carefully for sounds of danger, and hearing nothing, he took his opportunity to gaze up at the stars, searching for the serenity they had once given him. Suddenly he felt as if he'd been punched in the back. He lost his balance and stumbled forward.  
  
As his body fell forward, his spirit seemed to float upward. He looked down on his unconscious body, and found the peace he had sought in the stars.   
  
Two weeks later he woke up in a Saigon hospital. He felt hot and dry, and didn't want to move. Muffled moans emanated from a distant part of the hospital, and Walter was powerless to block out the sounds. From another direction he could hear a radio playing Led Zeppelin's "Dazed and Confused." It was Walter's favorite song. He couldn't relate to most of the lyrics -- "Wanted a woman, never bargained for you" sounded downright ungrateful to a lonely marine -- but the haunting, repetitive descent of the bassline and the languid strain of the Robert Plant's voice cried out as he never could. He pressed the back of his head against his pillow and closed his eyes. "Dazed and Confused." That was Walter Skinner.  
  
He could hear efficient footsteps approaching, and he tried desperately to feign sleeping. But she was onto him. "Walter," she said in a no-nonsense, yet compassionate tone. He felt the gentle press of her fingers on his wrist. "I know you're awake."   
  
He opened his eyes. She had long, jet-black hair and bright green eyes. She smiled down at him and placed a cold, wet cloth on his forehead. "It's about time, you goldbricker." He tried to smile, but his cracked lips had other ideas.  
  
"You're very lucky, Walter. They left you for dead, but they underestimated your will to live."  
  
Walter grimaced. He hadn't felt the will to live in weeks. He looked up at her, and it seemed to him that there was a glow surrounding her. A light shone from behind her, creating a golden border at the edges of her hair. He felt he'd never seen such a beautiful creature. He became instantly alert, and took in the name on her badge.  
  
"Nurse Stowe" he started. She recognized the signs -- they all did this -- and straightened her spine.  
  
"Private," she said in a businesslike voice. "I need to talk to you."  
  
Skinner nodded. He suddenly realized he hadn't checked for all of his limbs, and he forgot all about her beauty.  
  
"Soldier, I've seen dozens come in here just like you. Do you know why you've been here two weeks?" She took in the look of surprise on his face. "Yes, you've been here for two weeks. It took that long to get the drugs out of your system."   
  
Skinner closed his eyes, preparing himself for a lecture. "I know they're dangerous..." he said. She cut him off. "Soldier, you have a job to do. It isn't here. You are needed at home. You MUST take care of yourself until your moment arrives." Skinner looked confused. "They're sending you home. Your injury is serious, but it won't stop you from serving your country. Only you can do that. You are your own worst enemy..." Skinner sighed. Yes, this was what he expected. She continued, "You will have a much more dangerous enemy to face later. You need to prepare yourself to battle this enemy." Skinner looked confused. "Walter," she said firmly, "We're sending you home. Stay clean. Prepare for the war to end all wars."   
  
"World War III?" he asked. She shook her head. "Bigger than that. Don't let us down."  
  
She turned and walked away, leaving Walter to ponder what she'd said. In a few minutes another nurse approached his bed and took his pulse.  
  
"How are you feeling, soldier?" She asked.  
  
"A... a little better," he answered. "If you don't mind, could I see Nurse Stowe for a minute."  
  
The new nurse blanched. "Betty Stowe?" she asked. Skinner nodded.  
  
The nurse dropped his wrist and said with forced compassion, "She died. About three months ago."  
  
CHAPTER 14  
  
CSM held the door for Mulder as they entered the Pentagon's interior corridors. He led him through a maze of hallways crowded with military men and women in every type of uniform. They were walking quickly and purposefully, as if to some important assignment. CSM and Mulder were walking very slowly by comparison.   
  
"You were never in the military, were you Fox?" CSM said calmly.   
  
"No, I wasn't," Mulder answered.   
  
"But you became a soldier in your own way, didn't you?"   
  
Mulder couldn't help wondering what CSM's agenda was. "I guess you could say that," he nswered reluctantly.   
  
I did say that," CSM said matter-of-factly as he lit a cigarette. With the fresh cigarette in his lips, he said "You rather enjoy fighting. It's in your nature."   
  
Mulder felt boxed in. If he agreed, he'd be saying he was a fighter. If he denied it, he'd be arguing with CSM, and CSM would use that against him to prove his point. He pursed his lips and stopped walking. "Get to the point" he said sharply.   
  
CSM said, "That's my boy. Giving orders is much easier for you than following them." He took a drag and continued walking. He turned around and started walking backwards. "I was never much for following orders myself." And he turned around and continued walking. Mulder waited a few seconds then ran to catch up to CSM. "Okay, what do you want?" Mulder asked.   
  
CSM said "It's not what I want. It's what you want. You want to defeat your enemy. I'm showing you how you can do just that."   
  
Mulder said sarcastically, "You lying SOB. You promised me information, and now you're just leading me by the nose." CSM took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Tsk tsk tsk. Such impatience." They continued walking in silence for a few minutes, until they came to an unmarked door.   
  
CSM nodded toward the door and said, "The truth is in there."   
  
Mulder put his hand on the knob and tried to turn it, but it was locked. He looked at CSM in annoyance, but CSM ignored his look and turned the doorknob. The door swung open noiselessly.   
  
CSM turned the light on in the room then held the door open for Mulder. Mulder took a few tentative steps into the room. He looked around and saw only cardboard boxes on metal storage shelves. He walked up to one and pulled it off its shelf. It was unmarked on all sides, and the top was sealed.   
  
"Go ahead, open it," CSM said with the pride of a father giving a beloved child a birthday gift.   
  
He handed Mulder a letter opener, and Mulder slit the top seal. He set the box on the floor and peered into it.   
  
Inside the box was a random pile of guns, strewn as if packed quickly. They were different sizes, styles and colors. Mulder looked back at CSM. "What th---?" "I've offered you the Truth you have sought, but there's one thing you must do first." CSM said as he stamped out his cigarette. Mulder picked up one of the guns and looked it over. CSM continued "It's untraceable. No serial number. No ballistics record. No record of it entering this building, and there will be no record of it leaving."   
  
Mulder was irate. "Whatever it is you want me to do, you can forget it. I'll not do your dirtywork for you." He threw the gun back into its box.   
  
"You won't be doing it for me," CSM said as he took a fresh cigarette out of its pack. "You'll be doing it for your son."   
  
Mulder said "But I don't have a..." then suddenly realized what CSM was saying. "You mean Scully's baby?" CSM raised his eyebrows as he lit his cigarette. The pitch of Mulder's voice raised as he said "What have you done with William?"   
  
"Nothing" CSM said as he exhaled his smoke. "Why, should I?" Mulder dove for CSM, but CSM stepped aside casually, letting Mulder hit his head on a wall. Mulder got up quickly and started to grab for CSM, but CSM grabbed his wrist and stared into his eyes. Mulder's body went limp, but he couldn't resist staring back into CSM's eyes. "I understand," he said serenely. CSM held out a gun for him and Mulder took it.   
  
Then Mulder put the barrel of the gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A Few Good Men, Part 2  
  
Where we last left our heroes:  
  
After receiving a phonecall from the palm pilot, Skinner believes that Scully and new-born William are in trouble. When he stops to call her his car explodes, and he experiences a series of flashbacks to Vietnam, including visitations from his dead friend, Hank. Doggett sees the flames and finds Skinner with the help of a mysterious soldier. Mulder heads to Crystal City to help Skinner, but soldiers direct him to the center courtyard of the Pentagon, where he encounters CSM. Scully's mother drops in to check on her and William and offers to let them stay with her. After driving some distance Scully figures out that the woman is not her mother, and the shape-shifter throws Scully out of the car, escaping with William. Scully makes it to a phone with the help of her deceased father and sister, and in the hospital is visited by Mulder's deceased mother. CSM leads Mulder to a room in the Pentagon, where he convinces Mulder to put the barrel of a gun into his mouth and pull the trigger.  
  
  
  
CHAPTER 15  
  
Three geeky men poked their heads into a quiet hospital room. Scully beamed when she saw them. "Hi guys," she said. "How did you know I'd be here?"  
  
"A woman called us..." Byers started.  
  
"From this room," Langley continued.  
  
"And told us you were here," Frohike finished.  
  
"It wasn't me," Scully answered. "But whoever it was, I'm glad she did. What else did she say?"  
  
"Just that you needed our help," Langley said, reaching for her hand. She let him take it, then winced as Frohike approached to take her other hand.  
  
"Guys, I'm okay," Scully assured them. "I took a little beating earlier, but I'm fine now. It's William you should worry about."  
  
All three faces blanched simultaneously. "What happened?" Byers asked breathily. "Where is he?"  
  
"I don't know," Scully said, tears welling up in her eyes. "Someone posing as my mother drove off with him. She was a shape-sh---"  
  
"Oh, sh---" Langley said through clenched teeth.  
  
"Don't worry, we'll find him," said Frohike soothingly as he stroked her hand.  
  
She pulled her hands free from theirs and clasped them together. "I got a call," she started, then told them the whole story. When she was finished, she sighed deeply and said, "What do you think?"  
  
"I think it sounds like there were a lot of phonecalls involved here..." Langley offered. He leaned to one side and let his backpack fall gently to the floor. Pulling out a laptop computer, he asked thoughtfully, "Your cellphone is missing? For how long?"  
  
Scully sniffled and thought for a moment. "A day, maybe two..." She gasped as she came to a sudden realization. "I think I left it in Democrat Hot Springs."   
  
"What phone numbers are programmed into it?" Frohike asked, trying in vain to reach for Scully's hand.  
  
"My home number, Mulder's home, his cell, A.D. Skinner, my mother..." she listed.  
  
"If I can hack into your provider's closest node, then check on recently dialed numbers..." Langley said more to himself than to anyone in the room. Frohike and Byers looked over his shoulder as he pounded madly at his keyboard.  
  
After a few minutes, Langley shouted out, "Yes!" and turned the computer to face Scully. "Those numbers?" he asked.  
  
Scully nodded. "And the timing is right... My mother, then Skinner..." She looked up in horror as she had a terrifying thought. "If my mother wasn't really my mother, then was it really Mulder in my apartment?"  
  
There's one way to find out, Frohike said, pulling his cellphone from his jeans pocket and handing it to Scully. She took it gingerly, wiped the earpiece on her sheets, and started dialing.  
  
CHAPTER 16  
  
At the Pentagon, Deputy Director Kersh looked on as two attendants loaded a corpse into an unmarked van and slammed each of its the double doors. He heard a faint ring sounding from the inside of the van, and banged on the door. One of the attendants opened it, holding a loudly ringing cellphone. Kersh recognized it at once as FBI-issue equipment and held out his hand for it. "Hello?" he answered.  
  
"Mulder, it's me," Scully's voice sounded in the phone. "I need your help."  
  
"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Agent Scully, but Agent Mulder will be unable to help you," Kersh said coldly. "He's on his way to the morgue."  
  
"Can you get him a message?" Scully asked frantically.  
  
"Not where he's going," Kersh said, then he hit "end" and put the phone in his pocket.  
  
Scully laid back on her hospital bed, her face knotted in confusion. She hit "end" on Frohike's phone then dialed Skinner's cell number.  
  
"Skinner here," she heard after several rings.  
  
"Sir, have you seen Agent Mulder?" Scully asked.  
  
Skinner held the phone to his chest then looked to Agent Doggett. "Have you seen Agent Mulder tonight?" Doggett pursed his lips and shook his head. After putting his phone to his ear again Skinner answered, "No, why?"  
  
"Kersh answered Mulder's cellphone and told me he's on his way to the morgue... He was looking for you when he left the house..." Scully stopped mid-phrase and dropped the cellphone.  
  
"What's wrong?" Byers asked, approaching Scully's bed. In answer her lips quivered and her eyes filled with tears. "No..." Byers said soothingly, taking her hand. "I'm sure it's not what you think..." Scully tried to grin through her tears, then took a deep breath and picked up her phone.  
  
"I'm not sure what's happening," she said to Skinner.  
  
"Agent Scully, I'm in an ambulance with your mother," Skinner said. "Where are you? Can you meet us at...?" He mouthed to Doggett 'Where are we going?' Doggett mouthed back 'Washington General' Skinner continued, "Washington General? in about..." he looked at his watch, then out the rear window of the ambulance. "In about five minutes?"  
  
"I'm there now, sir," Scully answered. "Wait -- are you sure it's my mother?"  
  
"We found her at her house, unconscious and gagged, but she's coming around," Skinner looked appraisingly at the slightly older woman. "Want to talk to her?"  
  
He handed the phone to Maggie, and Scully said, "If you're my mother, what did you give me for Christmas when I was ten?"  
  
"A Barbie Doll," Maggie said, "with a hot pink convertible and a Ken doll to keep her company."  
  
Scully sighed. "And when I was twelve?"  
  
"A delicate cross, that you always wear," Maggie said.  
  
"And what did I *really* want," Scully demanded.  
  
"The Hotel California. Any other questions," Maggie asked.  
  
"No, I guess not," Scully said softly. "Are you okay, Mom?"  
  
"I'm in good hands," Maggie assured her. "I'll see you soon, honey."  
  
"Mom!" Scully shouted. "Don't hang up!"  
  
"What?" Maggie asked, her eyes on Skinner's.  
  
"William's been kidnapped... by someone who looked like you. Tell A.D. Skinner they were on their way toward Silver Spring on ..."  
  
Maggie handed the phone to Skinner, who said, "Hello?"  
  
Scully repeated her information, making her best guess about the direction her mother's car was taking. "What's the license number?" Skinner asked, reaching for a pen.  
  
"I don't remember," Scully said.  
  
"Maggie? How are you feeling?" Skinner asked. "We need you to look for your car."  
  
"If this is about William..." Maggie answered immediately.  
  
"We'll find him, Agent Scully," Skinner said soothingly. "I'll call you on your cell when---"  
  
"No!" Scully shouted. "Whoever has William has my cellphone. Call me at the hospital," she demanded.  
  
"Okay---" Skinner started.  
  
"Wait!" Frohike interrupted, grabbing the phone from Scully. "Langley's onto something."  
  
"I've located your cellphone! It's in Bethesda, just east of a Metro stop." He looked up in a panic. "National Institutes of Health."  
  
  
CHAPTER 17  
  
Doggett turned to the ambulance driver and said, "FBI business. Turn right at the first..." But before he could finish, the attendant in the rear grabbed Doggett from behind, cutting off his air at the neck. As the agent struggled in his seat, Skinner leapt onto the attendant's back and tried in vain to pull him down. Despite Skinner's size, the attendant easily threw him backwards onto the floor of the ambulance.  
  
Skinner landed with a loud thud and rolled to his side. Maggie Scully ripped off her restraints and stooped to help him up. "Stay back, Mrs. Scully," Skinner warned. "You don't know what you're dealing with here."  
  
He ransacked the cabinets, looking for something that could be a weapon, until he felt a delicate feminine hand on his arm. A second hand placed defibulator paddles in his hand, then patted it encouragingly. "Mrs. Scully..." Skinner started, but when he turned around he saw a familiar dark-haired military nurse smiling at him. "This will work, Walt," she whispered.  
  
Encouraged, he grabbed the paddles and placed them on either side of the man's head. He could feel the surge of electricity pass through the paddles as the attendant started to shudder. A second surge made the man release his grip on Doggett's neck and turn menacingly toward Skinner. The dark-haired woman threw open the back doors, and as Skinner struggled with the man, he managed to work his way closer to the doors.  
  
Doggett, catching his breath, looked carefully at the driver, who had hunched forward as if to guard the steering wheel. The hair on his own neck bristled as Doggett saw a familiar lump at the back of the driver's neck. Doggett grabbed for the steering wheel, and the driver reacted by putting his hand out and squeezing Doggett's neck with super-human strength. Instinctively, Doggett grabbed the driver's arm and struggled to pull free. Maggie heard his gasps and rushed forward, pushing against the arm with her own strength, but Doggett's face had turned bright red, and his tongue was thrust forward as the pair lost their battle against the extraordinary man.  
  
As the driver easily handled the struggling pair, he increased speed, finding easy access on the late-night streets, when suddenly the headlights flashed on the image of a young boy, standing motionless in the street. The driver swerved, throwing Skinner and the attendant in the back against the back doors. Skinner maneuvered himself behind his opponent and kicked him out the doors, then hopped to his feet and moved to the front to help Doggett.  
  
Suddenly, the boy appeared again in the ambulance's headlights, and again, the driver swerved. "What the---" the driver yelled as he regained control.  
  
Skinner grabbed the defibulator paddles and slapped them against the man's head, then glanced backward and saw the dark-haired nurse nodding. The driver shook his head side-to-side trying to shake the paddles and let go of Doggett's throat. As Doggett gasped for air, the driver shook the paddles from his head and gunned the accelerator. Doggett watched in horror as the ambulance sped through the streets of D.C. He tried to grab the steering wheel, but the driver slammed him against the passenger door, knocking what little wind he'd regained, out of him.  
  
As Doggett caught his breath the boy appeared in the headlights again, and Doggett screamed "LUKE!!!" The driver hit the accelerator, speeding toward the boy. With superhuman strength, Doggett pulled on the driver's arm, forcing the vehicle off the road. They jumped the curb and crashed into a dense planting of shrubs fronting a dark brick townhouse. Seeing his opportunity, Skinner pulled out the defibulator paddles and immediately felt the shuddering of the driver's convulsions. The driver grabbed the door handle and leapt out, running several feet before collapsing in the middle of the road, his body still convulsing.  
  
CHAPTER 18  
  
Agent Reyes waited at the appointed corner but after several minutes with no sign of John Doggett, she decided to follow her nose -- literally. Smoke from the fire wafted toward her, and she could see the rapidly dimishing glow in the sky to her South. As she opened her car door, her cellphone rang.  
  
"Monica Reyes," she answered automatically.  
  
"Hi Monica, it's John Doggett."  
  
She sighed. "John, where are you?"  
  
"Long story, Monica, but I need you to meet me at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda. Know where that is?"  
  
"Uh... no," she said cautiously, eyeing the shadows around her. "I'll find it," she promised, then disconnected the phone and put it into her pocket. Drawing her weapon, she yelled. "Stop. I'm a federal agent!"  
  
A tall figure approaching from the shadows called out, "So am I! At least I was."  
  
Reyes kept her gun pointed at the silhouetted man as it took a few more steps toward her. "Put your hands up! Over there," she gestured toward a streetlamp with her gun. "Go into the light."  
  
"That's very funny, actually," the figure said, still approaching.  
  
"I mean it!" Reyes' stone-cold expression didn't waver as she sighted over the barrel of her gun. "There," she waved the gun forcefully. "NOW!"  
  
"Okay, okay," the figure laughed, as he sauntered into the pool of light.  
  
"Agent Mulder?" she asked tentatively. "Did John Doggett send you here too?"  
  
"No, Fate did," he answered. "Is that your car?" he asked. She nodded a "yes," and he ordered, "Let's go then."  
  
Reyes opened the passenger door then stood holding it as he climbed in. "Do you mind telling me what's going on?" she demanded.  
  
"I'll explain on the way," he said, then when she didn't move he added, "Get in! There isn't much time!"  
  
She slammed the door and ran around to her side. "Do you know the way to the National Institutes of Health?" she asked after starting the engine.  
  
"That way," Mulder nodded.  
  
"Which way?" Reyes asked, but Mulder interrupted her angrily.  
  
"Over there... GO!" he shouted.  
  
She peeled out of the parking lot and followed his orders. After merging onto a highway she turned to him and asked, "NOW can you tell me what this is about?"  
  
"Do you believe that the dead care about the living?" Mulder asked cryptically.  
  
"In some cultures ancestor worship is a basic tenet of..." Reyes began academically.  
  
"Yes, Asia especially," Mulder finished. "And in Christianity there's a belief that the dead will rise at the end-times..."  
  
"You're not saying this is the end-times, are you?"  
  
"What if both beliefs are partly true?" Mulder suggested. "What if the dead watch over their descendents and friends, and that during times of crisis, or the end-times if you will, they return to help them?"  
  
Reyes chewed her lower lip as she thought about his idea. "I suppose anything is possible. Of course you have a reputation for being willing to believe anything..."  
  
"And of being right," he pointed out.  
  
"Even if what you say is true, what does that have to do with us?" Reyes asked as she checked her rearview mirror. She changed lanes then continued, "I was called out on an explosion case, not a sighting."  
  
Mulder smirked and pulled a few sunflower seeds from his coat pocket. He tossed them around in the palm of his hand then put one in his mouth. "Agent Doggett should know by now that no X-Files case is what it appears at first."  
  
"This is an X-File?"  
  
"The X-File to end all X-Files," Mulder nodded. "And what if ancestors are the source of visions, of ESP, of remote viewing? What if they have the power to plant images in the minds of those they have a connection to? And what if I told you I'd seen such a vision?"  
  
Reyes rolled her eyes and quipped, "And people think *my* ideas were goofy."  
  
"But you believe me. I can tell," Mulder said smugly.  
  
"Yes," she sighed. "I don't know why, but I believe you. I believe it's possible anyway."  
  
"Here's another thought," he said, his eyes on the road, his voice so distant that Reyes wondered if he was still talking to her. "What if they're all... all the dead of all time... What if they're gathering to help save humanity, using all their powers as weapons in this great war?"  
  
"You mean now? They're gathering now?" she asked. "What war? And why now of all times?"  
  
He snapped to at the sound of her voice. "Maybe they've done it other times too. Who knows? But I think they're with us now."  
  
CHAPTER 19  
  
The National Institutes of Health complex included dozens of brick buildings surrounded by lush landscaping. "Where now?" Doggett asked frantically? "He could be anywhere!"  
  
Skinner switched off the engine, then scanned the campus, looking for lights. He sighed in frustration. "He may not even be above-ground."  
  
Doggett pulled his phone from his pocket and hit a pre-programmed number. "Monica? We're there. What's your E.T.A.?"  
  
Skinner ground his teeth, studying the terrain as he half-listened to Doggett's end of the conversation.  
  
"Agent Mulder's with her," Doggett announced as he returned the phone to his pocket. "He says we should meet them at the Metro entrance and he'll show us where to go."  
  
Skinner pulled the van to a stop near the Metro and looked around warily. "I don't like this, Agent Doggett. It's too open."  
  
"Well, nobody knows who we are, why we're here, or where this ambulance was supposed to be, so I say hiding in plain sight might be the best plan," Doggett assessed. "But just in case..." He drew his gun and opened his door.  
  
As Doggett patroled the area, Skinner turned in his seat. "Are you okay, Mrs. Scully?" he asked. "We could find someplace for you to wait while we..."  
  
"Oh no you don't!" she said angrily. "Don't just dump me when my grandson needs me!"  
  
Skinner closed his eyes and sighed. "I didn't mean..."  
  
"I know what you meant," she snapped. "But I feel fine, and if I can help, I will. I'm not letting anything happen to that baby!"  
  
Her resolve brought a smile to Skinner's face. "I understand, but that baby needs his grandmom too," he said compassionately. "I don't want to let anything happen to you."  
  
Maggie blushed and looked into his soft brown eyes. "Now I know why my daughter trusts you," she appraised.  
  
"Just doing my job, ma'am," he blushed.  
  
Doggett opened the door and slid effortlessly into the passenger's seat. "All clear," he said. "Monica said they'd be here in a few minutes, depending on traffic. We should be fine here."   
  
Skinner and Maggie Scully smiled at each other, leaving Doggett to say, "What? What'd I say?"  
  
  
CHAPTER 20  
  
When Mulder and Reyes arrived at the National Institutes of Health campus, all seemed quiet. They pulled up behind the ambulance. Skinner walked up to the car and leaned over the driver's door. Reyes rolled down her window and asked, "So now what? There must be thirty or forty buildings here. How do we know where..."  
  
"I know," Mulder said. "I've seen it."  
  
Reyes looked at him skeptically. "In a vision?" she queried.  
  
Skinner rolled his eyes. "Mulder, if you don't have something better than that to go on..."  
  
"Do *you* have something better?" Mulder interrupted. Skinner and Reyes sighed in unison. "I didn't think so," Mulder said smugly. "We're going to go to a building marked 'Recombinant DNA' and it's guarded, but only by two armed guards. I think we can distract them."  
  
"How?" Reyes asked.  
  
"What soldier can resist a damsel in distress?" Mulder winked.  
  
A few minutes later their plan was in place. Maggie, who insisted on helping, waited in the ambulance, ready to sound the siren if any authorities arrived.  
  
Monica and John stood in the shadows of a stand of trees across from the building. "Ready?" Doggett asked.  
  
Reyes mussed her hair, ripped the collar of her blouse, and smeared her lipstick. "How do I look? she asked.  
  
"Terrible!" Doggett laughed. "It's perfect."  
  
Reyes ran screaming toward the guards, shouting "Help! Help! There's a man... over there... he attacked me!"  
  
One of the guards ran toward her and took her elbow. She resisted his attempts to pull her toward the building, instead feigning a labored pant as if too winded to go on. "He's... still... there.... I think..." she nodded to where John's hiding place.  
  
When he saw the guard's head moving in his direction, Doggett ran through the shadows, drawing fire from the guard at the gate. Reyes screamed a girlish scream and held onto "her" guard's arm. "Don't leave me!" she pleaded. "He's coming back for me."  
  
The guard nodded to his partner, who reluctantly left his post and ran toward Doggett's shadow. Reyes pulled 'her' guard's attention toward herself as Mulder and Skinner entered unchallenged into the building.  
  
Inside, they found a long hallway lined with identical doors marked with biohazard warnings. Each door sported a round porthole-like window, through which Mulder and Skinner could see typical laboratory equipment. Behind them they heard the sounds of dozens of voice, each quietly whispering a name. Skinner turned around, guns drawn, but saw nothing. "Keep it down!" Mulder whispered to the empty hall.  
  
As they continued down the hall they saw a few rooms lined with cribs, each equipped with electronic monitors and IV stands. "The last one on the right," Mulder whispered.  
  
Skinner shot Mulder a puzzled look, but he *had* been right so far this night, so he went along. Through the window of the last room, Skinner could see three babies in hospital cribs, each attached to an IV tube with pinkish fluid in the sac above. A pink-faced, gray-haired woman in a nurse's uniform took a sac with the same pinkish fluid and attached a hose from it to a machine that separated it into several small tubes. She took one tube and held it to the light, then noticed the two men peering through the window. She ran toward the door, but stopped mid-stride, her face white with fright.  
  
Mulder pushed open the door, and the two men walked in purposefully. "Ma'am," Skinner said. "We're with the FBI..."  
  
"I don't care who you're with," the woman said in a trembling voice. "You don't belong here." She backed toward a desk and felt frantically under its keyboard tray.  
  
"Nevermind about the alarm," Mulder said. "The guards are busy." He walked to one crib then gently stroked the nearly hairless head of the occupant. "William," he whispered. He turned to the nurse and said, "Take these tubes out of him. NOW!"  
  
"Why?" the woman objected, her body backing her swivel chair into a cabinet. "Why should I listen to you?"  
  
Before Mulder could answer, the woman went silent, looking up with wide eyes and a trembling lower lip. "But how..." she asked, then stared intently at one point in space. "I understand," she said in a monotone. "I'll do it."  
  
She rose and went to a cottonball jar, then pulled some out and started removing tubing from the babies. Skinner looked from her to Mulder, puzzled by their silence and the woman's sudden change of heart. When the babies were free from their tubing and their wounds cleanly dressed, the three each took one and started for the door. When they reached the front door they could hear voices behind them again, and Mulder turned around. "Okay, boys. Now is the time. Go for it!"  
  
The voices turned louder, angrier, and raucous, as tubing, beds, vials and all the medical accoutrements of the place flew in all directions, smashing with intensity. Doggett and Reyes arrived at the front door in time to see and hear the commotion.  
  
"Don't you see it?" Reyes asked Doggett.  
  
Mulder interjected, "It's our ancestors. Taking back our destiny."  
  
"All's I see is stuff flying around," Doggett insisted. "And we'd better get outta here before something hits someone."  
  
They arrived at the ambulance in time to see the guards rushing toward the building. "They're supersoldiers," Doggett assessed. "I shot 'em both. They shouldn't be standing."  
  
And as the two guards entered the building, it exploded, sending fire and debris in all directions.  
  
Skinner handed a baby to Maggie Scully and said, "Let's get the hell outta here." He assumed the driver's seat, and Maggie Scully sat in the passenger side.   
  
Reyes, the nurse, Mulder, and Doggett ran to Reyes' car, then sped away behind the ambulance.  
  
EPILOGUE  
Washington General Hospital  
  
The next morning Dana Scully held her son, William, contentedly as Agent Reyes recounted the story of his rescue. "All three babies were born to mothers who had been abducted and were diagnosed as barren," Reyes explained. "The nurse didn't know the extent of the research at NIH, but she received this information in a vision."  
  
Scully's eyebrows raised in habitual skepticism. "Like the visions Mulder told me about before he left?"  
  
"I know, it sounds strange," Reyes added. "But Mulder's visions were accurate, and this woman seemed to have the same kind of experience. How else do you explain it?"  
  
"I don't know," Scully said resignedly. "But go on. I need answers, even if they're strange answers."  
  
"Well, William and the other two babies are considered the first of the successful cases of hybridized super soldiers. And this lab, or whatever it was, was set up to clone these babies. To make more of them, or at least to use their DNA in future experiments."  
  
Instinctively, Scully held William closer to her. "And was that the only lab doing this? Or are there more somewhere else?"  
  
Reyes shook her head. "Who knows? But I can tell you this. William and the other children like him have someone watching over them. They'll be okay."  
  
"Like guardian angels?" Scully asked hopefully.  
  
"Something like that," Reyes smiled. "All these babies have their Agent Mulders watching out for them."  
  
The two women were startled to see first a hand, then an arm, then a complete Agent Mulder leaning over William. He kissed the top of the baby's head, then brushed his lips against Scully's cheek. "I'll always watch out for you. Both of you."  
  
And with that, his image disappeared.  
  
*****************************  
  
Vietnam Memorial Wall  
  
A large hand spread over the names of two dozen marines etched one after the other in honor of their simultaneous sacrifice. The hand trembled slightly as it reached the name Hank Shelby. Skinner let his hand drop, and his head followed, bending in silent sighs that might have been prayers in a man whose faith had not been so badly shattered. He reached into his pocket and removed a small piece of ribbon attached to a medal. He'd saved their lives, and for what? he wondered. He stuffed the Bronze Star into the crack between the dark granite slabs and patted it. 'This is yours,' he silently addressed his platoon.  
  
He walked to the bench opposite the wall and sat, his shoulders drooping with the weight of his grief. 'They're not gone,' he thought. 'Not while someone remembers them.' He looked up at their names and saw the reflections of dozens of marines in the charcoal-colored stone. He looked behind him and saw only Agent Doggett, walking over the grassy hill, the Washington Monument at his back.  
  
"They told me I'd find you here, Sir," Doggett said. "I hope you don't mind."  
  
"Have a seat, Agent Doggett," Skinner growled.  
  
The two men sat in silence for a moment, then Doggett cleared his throat and said, "I thought you might want to know. Those two babies had been reported missing. They've been reunited with their parents."  
  
"That's good," Skinner answered mechanically.  
  
"And," Doggett swallowed a lump in his throat before continuing. "Agent Mulder's body has been positively identified. That couldn't have been him with us at the Insititutes of Health."  
  
"You expect me to be surprised?" Skinner turned and looked at Doggett. "Nothing surprises me anymore, Agent Doggett. Almost nothing," he added sadly, then turned to look once again at the names on the wall. "I hope they didn't die for nothing," he said softly, more to himself than to Doggett.  
  
"This is a part of my life I wish I could forget. I'm sure you understand."  
  
"Yes, sir, I do," Doggett said respectfully. "It was a different war. A different time, but..."  
  
"There's only one war, Agent Doggett," Skinner interrupted. "The struggle to keep humanity from becoming something else. That war will never end."  
  
Suddenly, several soldiers appeared before them, wearing uniforms from several services and wars. Among them Skinner recognized Hank and Nurse Stowe. Hank put his hand on Skinner's shoulder and said, "A few good men were left behind. As long as they let us help them, our deaths were not in vain."  
  
The soldiers saluted then disappeared into a haze. 


End file.
